


Breathe In, Breathe Out

by lopsidedhead



Category: Hermitcraft RPF, Minecraft (Video Game), Original Work
Genre: Gen, and you'll get more out of it if you've read that, hermitblr school au, joe is probably ooc cause i'm bad at writing characters, school au, tdyf is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:48:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24862555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lopsidedhead/pseuds/lopsidedhead
Summary: My first work in the Hermitblr School AU, where the Hermits are the teachers and minesonas are the students.Lops has a chat with the English and History teacher Mr Hills, who helps him come to a realisation.
Kudos: 18





	Breathe In, Breathe Out

**Author's Note:**

> This AU has a Google Doc that you might want to read beforehand (although it shouldn't be too necessary)! https://docs.google.com/document/d/1y-lZ1dUiSYGm3agurqq8ElQNb6hEZgumkDvVKyKGl_s

Lops stepped out of the large, intricate spruce doors that led out of his dorm, feeling the cool 3am breeze on his sensors. He hadn’t used as much battery in the last 24 hours - there hadn’t been any classes since it was a Saturday, and instead of exercising he’d stayed in the dorm all day - so his charging only took a few hours, leaving him the rest of the night to do what he wanted. Sometimes he wondered if the others did the same sometimes, if they all had charging ports in their beds or something. But Lops just sat against a wall in the common area, staring out the window and occasionally talking to the night owls who came for a chat or a midnight snack. x1j stopped by quite a lot; being half-enderman, he didn’t really sleep. But tonight, Lops decided he’d go for a stroll around the campus instead of just waiting for other people to talk to. He needed the exercise, plus he hadn’t been outside in a while.

Lops started ambling down one of the many paths that led away from his dorm, choosing the one that he knew would eventually lead to the arts block, where Mr Grian and Mr Scar’s art classes were held. Mr Slab’s drama class was also somewhere there, and the band used that room for practicing sometimes. A few windows in the dorms to either side of Lops were still shining brightly through the curtains, with one particular window (he thought it might be the one belonging to Mx Iskall, the computer science teacher) flashing pink, red, blue, yellow, over and over again. It hurt his optical sensors so he turned his head away, but he could still hear the beat of the faint music blasting in a language he didn’t understand.

He turned a corner to get away from it, entering a large rectangular courtyard framed with yet more dorms. Paths led around the edge and branched off to go straight through the middle of the grassy area in the middle, splitting it in two halves. On the side furthest from where he stood, a familiar person was lying on the grass, eyes open wide - Mr Hills (known as just Joe to most students), the cryptic poet turned English and History teacher. His lessons were legendary among the students who didn’t take either of those subjects, thanks to all of his students constantly talking about how chill and down-to-earth Joe was. Lops didn’t really care about English or History, but he just liked Joe because they both ended up awake at impossible times, and often they’d just talk about random philosophical things for hours.

Lops strolled over to the teacher.

“Hey, Joe.”

“Howdy there, Lops! How are you on this fine night?” Joe replied, voice cheery as ever.

“I’m fine. What are you doing down there?”

“Letting the moss reclaim me while I gaze at the neverending stars. Care to join me, my dear friend?” The offer was tempting to Lops - after all, he had nothing better to do - so he slowly lowered himself down onto the grass, the servos in his legs a little bit stiff from staying still for most of the day. He stared at the blanket of stars that stretched out above his head, at the full moon shining down onto the campus (he was surprised the conspiracy club wasn’t out and about trying to find werewolves), and he let his large eyes just unfocus. Next to him, Joe was doing much the same thing.

“Why don’t you sleep like the others do, Mr Hills?” Lops enquired, the thought suddenly entering his mind that Joe might be like him - he’d never seen Joe sleep, after all.

“My friend, call me Joe. And sleep is for those who don’t care about missing the stars!”

“I don’t care about missing the stars, but I don’t sleep.”

“Some people are different, and you just happen to be quite a bit different. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“How am I different, though? I’m human, just like most of the people here. They’re all just a bit weird.”

“Lops, we are of flesh and bone. You are of cogs and wiring, full of redstone. That’s what makes you different. You’re not human.”

Lops’ mind whirred as he tried to process what the teacher had just said. He… wasn’t human? Of course, many people had tried to tell him that over the years, even his closest friends, but he had never believed them. After all, he respawned just like any human (or anthropomorphic teddy bear, in Bearcub’s case) and took damage like them too.

He could almost feel the programming in his mind begin to give way, and suddenly the floodgates opened. He remembered every single thing people had pointed out - the speakers on his neck (he assumed that everyone else just had speakers within their mouths), the weird movements, the metallic noise he made when he walked. And, for once, it clicked. He _was_ a robot.

“Well…”

“Have a good night, Lops.” Joe stood up, shook the dirt off his luminous cyan tshirt, and left, waving to Lops as he went.

All Lops could do was lie in the grass, mind repeating those same words over and over again, until the sun rose and he left for his classes, head still spinning with questions.


End file.
